


Something Borrowed, Something Blue, A Thousand Times I'd Marry You

by KatieEwok



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Skater Yuuri, Smitten Victor Nikiforov, Victor Nikiforov is Extra, wedding planner victor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21936013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieEwok/pseuds/KatieEwok
Summary: What’s more, Yuuri’s got fantastic honeymoon ideas. While Victor’s planning the wedding, Yuuri’s casually asks the fiancés where they’re going, then always has a hundred ideas for romantic things to do once they’re there. A cute bakery that does heart shaped macarons, the best spot for stargazing, which bar has swing dance. Victor had asked Yuuri how he knew all these lovely things to do, and Yuuri, blushing furiously, had told him that these were all the things he planned to do with Victor but either hadn’t had time to while they themselves visited, or they hadn’t been to that particular location yet. The fact that Yuuri has dates planned for them in pretty much every romantic spot on the planet, had Victor swooning in a calculated way that meant Yuuri had to catch him.[Future fic in which Victor quits skating to be Yuuri's Katsuki-Nikiforov's trophy husband and a wedding planner.]
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 26
Kudos: 182





	Something Borrowed, Something Blue, A Thousand Times I'd Marry You

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by [this post](https://ewokthrowdown.tumblr.com/post/189634110685/ewokthrowdown-kiaronna-ayabai-friends-a) on Tumblr, which I just had to write something for.
> 
> Godspeed Vitenka you adorable idiot.

Victor Nikiforov is a reasonable man, but he will lose his shit if Karen Thomson suggests he plan her boring straight white person pastel wedding one more time. There’s so much dusky pink and ivy green. The only original thing about it is that she wants her and her husband to sing their vows to each other. With a spotlight on her. Victor has officially decided that no straight person can be trusted.

He politely declines for a fourth time via email, explaining that he doesn’t think he’s the right planner for her but kindly suggesting some of the contacts he’s made in the industry. It’s only been a year, but _Katsuki-Nikiforov Weddings_ is flourishing. After coaching Yuuri to his first Grand Prix medal, Victor had done all of one competition before he’d had his first ever panic attack and told a distraught Yuuri that he couldn’t come back, he just couldn’t. Yuuri, beside himself with worry, had agreed easily. Because while Yuuri loved Victor’s skating, he loved Victor more and just wanted him to be happy. And suddenly Victor felt like he could breathe again. It had been awful, the pressure, the attention, the vigorous training. He’d had a taste of life and love and the return to the stiflingly strict regimen of an athlete had been miserable. The questions from the press had felt sharper than ever, the diet harsher, the spotlight more blinding. But Yuuri caught him, easy as breathing, and now Victor and Yakov coach him together while Victor kicked off his other business venture.

Declaring that he’ll happily be Yuuri’s trophy husband, Victor had proceeded to plan the wedding of the century. The Katsuki-Nikiforov wedding had been the stuff of wedding magazine editors’ dreams. Publications like _Brides Monthly_ and _The One_ were practically salivating over the fabric samples and tastefully adventurous colour combinations. And Victor? Victor had been in his element. Rather than getting a wedding planner as so many celebrity couples do, Victor had planned the whole thing. Yuuri had been given plenty of opportunity to interject, and he had made some small requests, always shy about them, as though it wasn’t his right to make choices about his own wedding. But with some coaxing from Victor he’d become more bold, taking joy in the celebration of their love and pleased that Victor was enjoying himself so much. He’d still mostly deferred to Victor though, who’d decided that since he was already the living legend of figure skating, there was a new title to aim for; being the most sought after wedding planner in the world. Which, after the coverage of their own wedding, wasn’t too hard to achieve.

Victor hit the scene like a bomb. His first wedding was for a model turned human rights activist and her danseur boyfriend turned fiancé. Katrina Yudolovicha had plenty of taste, saying yes to all of Victor’s suggestions so that the modern, downtown wedding didn’t feel too corporate in its luxury hotel setting, but also didn’t feel at all traditional with its electric pink and blue lighting. They’d somehow ended up with a sci-fi eighties vibe that would’ve been awful if anyone else had planned it, but was an edgy sort of tech chic meets fashion week in Victor’s capable hands.

Next had been a lovely lesbian couple who were very active environmentalists. Victor had planned them a wedding in the foothills of a volcanic island off the coast of Bali. While it had the potential to be reminiscent of a tacky resort, Victor had moulded it into a tropical paradise with earthy, refreshing tones.

His favourite so far was a baroque inspired wedding in a medieval castle in England. Dripping in pearls, velvet, and gold filigree, the wedding had been a feast of sumptuous delights, all low candlelight and glittering jewels, the bride wearing a collar to rival that of Queen Elizabeth the l’s.

And of course, as Victor is so sought after, all the couples agree to fly out his loving husband to attend to him. Yuuri is a beautifully calming presence whenever things go wrong. He’ll see the tight line of Victor’s mouth, the way his hands clench, and will slip in close, a warm presence at his side. “You’ve got this,” he’ll whisper. “You’re Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov, you can handle a dropped six tier wedding cake.” And handle it Victor does.

Yuuri is also wonderful with distracting the in-laws and husbands. As Victor’s attention usually ends up on the bride, he sometimes doesn’t notice when the bride’s mother is getting increasingly irate with the caterers, or the husband is starting to freak out over how real all of it’s becoming. Yuuri has talked a husband with cold feet down from leaving, charmed a monster mother of the bride into a giggling mess, and can usually be found with a small child propped up on his hip, the kid giggling happily rather than running around causing untold chaos. Victor is _so_ in love with him.

What’s more, Yuuri’s got fantastic honeymoon ideas. While Victor’s planning the wedding, Yuuri’s casually asks the fiancés where they’re going, then always has a hundred ideas for romantic things to do once they’re there. A cute bakery that does heart shaped macarons, the best spot for stargazing, which bar has swing dance. Victor had asked Yuuri how he knew all these lovely things to do, and Yuuri, blushing furiously, had told him that these were all the things he planned to do with Victor but either hadn’t had time to while they themselves visited, or they hadn’t been to that particular location yet. The fact that Yuuri has dates planned for them in pretty much every romantic spot on the planet, had Victor swooning in a calculated way that meant Yuuri had to catch him.

But weddings are Victor’s game at the end of the day, and he has the bridal party on hand with cushioned insoles for when the bride’s feet get sore in her heels, the ushers pockets loaded with handkerchiefs for any sobbing guests, and a stain erasing pen for the husband who spills hor d’oeuvres down his pristine white shirt. Victor is a pro.

He does however have the tendency to exclaim “here comes the husband!” only for whoever he was talking to to turn around, expecting to see the husband to be, only to see Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov walking towards them. Victor just gets very excited whenever Yuuri’s headed in his direction, okay?

Victor also _adores_ dancing with Yuuri. And weddings are the perfect place to do it. He always reigns himself in until a good way into the dancing, knowing they’ll steal the limelight from the newlyweds. They’ll wait until the new couple are off doing something else, or the night is winding down, then they’ll take to the floor. Something to tango to is requested, or perhaps a waltz, and they’ll sweep out, other guests oohing and aahing as Yuuri dips Victor, or Victor lifts Yuuri, the pair of them swapping the lead back and forth. It always inevitably ends with them having to take a moment to make out somewhere discreet, each of them finding the tug of dancing close an irresistible call.

They had once been discovered in a compromising position by the grandmother of the bride, but after she’d screamed loud enough to bring guests running, she’d seemed to decide she was bored and had wandered off without explanation. Victor and Yuuri were immensely relieved.

Victor’s current wedding is an exciting project. They’re in Morocco for the marriage of a French couple who are filthy rich but pleasant enough. Célia Artus is a lingerie designer and dog lover, and her fiance Eloise Baudin is a mechanical engineer who indulges her fiancé’s every whim, no matter how ridiculous. Victor is a fan of them both.

The ceremony is held out on the sand dunes, the impressive golden sweep of them making sure the photographs will be stunning. There’s a breeze at this time of year, so the desert isn’t stifling, and the sky is a dazzling blue above the brides, whose outfits blaze brilliant white in the sun. Célia is in white, wide legged capri trousers and a loose strappy top, effortlessly chic, while Eloise is in a sleek, white satin dress that highlights her tiny waist and plunges low at the back, the bottom of the skirt flaring slightly.

Rather than a tent, Victor’s had large monstera leaves arranged to look like they’ve grown around the pillars that arch overhead naturally, offering dappled shade to the guests and wedding party. Linen suits make for a better alternative than wool blends, and everyone looks effortlessly cool despite the creeping temperature.

After the brides finish tying the knot and walk down the aisle towards the waiting dune buggies that’ll take them to the reception, a deluge of rose petals explodes into the air from a canon, drifting through the desert breeze. The applause that had already been raucous explodes into a frenzy. Victor grins.

“Well done, Mr Katsuki-Nikiforov,” a very familiar voice says, and Victor turns to see his husband smiling at him.

Yuuri’s looking coolly beautiful in a loose, white linen shirt, rolled up at the sleeves and tucked into a pair of tan linen trousers. His hair is swept back in the same style he wears it to skate and he’s swapped his usual blue glasses for a pair of round tortoiseshell Havana Ray Bans to go with the outfit. His toned arms and gorgeous face are tanned from the four days they’ve been here and Victor has to swallow at the delicious bit of collarbone visible where Yuuri’s left a few buttons undone.

“It’s not over yet,” Victor says, the words heavy in his suddenly dry mouth. “There’s still the reception.”

“Which you know will be perfect.”

They’re interrupted at this point by a little girl in a white flower girl dress running up to Yuuri and attaching herself to his leg.

“Yuuri!” she crows, gazing up at him with adoring eyes. “Allez, allez!”

Yuuri chuckles and stoops to gather the girl up into his arms. She settles on his hip, content, and points towards the dune buggies, babbling in French that Yuuri has no way to interpret. Despite the lack of a shared language, little Amelie _adores_ Yuuri, and allows him to carry her over to a dune buggy with Victor in tow so they can all head to the reception.

The reception is held in an opulent hotel that showcases the finest morroccan architecture. The walls, floors and ceilings are paved in richly painted tiles in blues and greens, pillars dotted throughout the rooms. It’s airy and light with the large archways leading out onto verandas overlooking the lush vegetation of the hotel grounds. The whole place smells like incense and the blossoms of the blooming jasmines outside.

Victor collects champagne flutes for himself and Yuuri, giving his husband a kiss on the cheek before he goes to check on the catering situation.

The kitchen is a riot of well controlled activity. Victor makes a beeline for the head chef, Amira, to find her calm and collected as she directs her staff with clipped yet polite instructions.

“Ah, Victor,” Amira says, her Darija accent heavy and pretty. “Try this.”

Before Victor can object, Amira has stuffed a hor d’oeuvre into his mouth. His eyes go wide as taste explodes on his tongue and Amira’s mouth hitches into a pleased smirk.

“Good, no?”

“It’s excellent!” Victor agrees when he’s finished the mouthful. “Vkusno!”

Amira laughs before giving him a brief summary of the expected courses and when they’ll be served. Victor knows all of this of course, but it’s nice to have reassurance that it’s all on schedule.

Back out in the main event area, waiters are circling between the guests with trays of food and drink. The atmosphere seems light and happy, the music not too loud and the lighting just right. As long as the speeches aren’t terrible, the first dance goes off without a hitch, and no one gets blackout drunk they’ll be fine. Of course Victor has the catering staff on watch for people who seem to be getting a little too drunk, and they’ll cut anyone off who seems to be getting out of hand.

Victor finds his husband sat on the floor surrounded by children and one greyhound. The dog has his head resting on Yuuri’s knee, while a little boy sits on the other. There are two little girls, one of whom is Amelie, putting clips in Yuuri’s hair, which they apparently bought specifically for this purpose. Another boy is sat beside the greyhound, apparently telling Yuuri a story entirely in French.

Victor is _besotted._

“Hello, little bird,” Victor says, crouching down to smile at Yuuri, who looks up and gives him such a loving smile that Victor nearly expires. “How’re things going over here?”

“Very well,” Yuuri replies, wincing slightly as one of the girls gets a little carried away with a hair tie. “Though I’m afraid I have no idea what Videl is saying.”

“He’s telling you about his friend at school who wants to be a polar bear when he grows up,” Victor supplies.

“Ah, of course.”

Yuuri’s smile is something devastating, and Victor has to resist the urge to go request a waltzing song this early so he can dance with him.

“Would you like to walk around or are you happy here?” Victor asks, aware that Yuuri has been babysitting for a good portion of the day and could probably do with a break.

“We’re okay here I think,” Yuuri says, giving the children an indulgent smile that has visions of Papa Yuuri with his and Victor’s hypothetical child flashing before Victor’s eyes. “I’d quite like a drink though, if you could get me one, darling?”

Victor’s heart still flutters at endearments from Yuuri and he gives his assent before going off to find Yuuri a drink of something with bubbles.

The reception all goes very well, and when the brides leave in a Jeep with _Just Married_ scrawled across the bumper, Victor takes Yuuri’s hand and leads him to the dance floor. They do a simple waltz, Yuuri following Victor’s lead easy as breathing, and Victor is lost.

Then Victor hand feeds him cake which has Yuuri pursing his lips but allowing because he treats Victor so.

There’s some commotion in the kitchen, but as the brides are gone Victor lets the catering staff take care of it. Instead he spoils Yuuri with tasty things that are not at all in his diet plan and plies him with champagne. The champagne gets Yuuri loose and giggly, snuggling up to Victor with flushed cheeks and pouty lips, gentle whines of “Vityaaaa” falling from him whenever he thinks he doesn’t have Victor’s full attention. Which is silly of course, Victor couldn’t look away if he tried.

Victor uses the romantic lighting to his advantage by sweeping Yuuri up into another dance that’s more just swaying on the spot than anything else, Yuuri’s body warm against his. Then with one final check that everything is in order and the guests are all happy, Victor whisks Yuuri away to their hotel room.

Once Célia and Eloise return from their honeymoon, the review is a shining one. They thank Victor for a stunning wedding and congratulate him on acquiring such a gorgeous and charming husband. Victor can only agree.

In fact the only criticism Victor seems to get from any of his weddings, is that he sometimes seems to think that it’s his and Yuuri’s wedding.

“Can you blame me, little bird?” Victor asks as Yuuri undoes his tie for him after one wedding. “I’d marry you a million times.”

“Hush, Vitenka,” Yuuri purrs in the way that has Victor’s metaphorical ears perking up. “I spoil you plenty, we don’t need more weddings. Besides, who cares about a wedding when I can give you a wedding _night_?”

Victor is undone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments always very much appreciated :)
> 
> More writing and art can be found on my [Tumblr](https://ewokthrowdown.tumblr.com/).


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